His Best Chance
by Njchrispatrick
Summary: When you love something let it go, when you want to protect it hide it from even yourself, when you want it to be happy give it its best chance. No one knew how hard that lesson is more than the Winter Soldier.


**A/N: Yes, another story. Putting this up because it has sat on mine computer for too long without attention. Thanks, as always, to my besties SoundedSummerand AnarchicMuse.**

**WARNINGS:**** Male/Male parenting, likely Steve/Bucky slash, possible character death**

* * *

A man with short-cropped blonde hair and a beard walked into a laboratory, a clipboard in his hand and a dark expression on his face. The other man looked up from what he was writing, his eyes growing wide when he saw his partner. Both were wearing white lab coats embossed with the HYDRA crest.

"There was another failed one," Donovan said to his partner, handing over the clipboard. The other man frowned as he stared at the test results, his frown deepening as his gaze reached the bottom of the page.

"Damn," he muttered as he put the clipboard down on the table. He ran a hand over his face as he paced back and forth. "I'd hoped that the added enhancements would finally stabilize the DNA."

Donovan cut in. "But that's just the thing Ripke, it did." He grabbed the clipboard and showed the other man the back of the paper. "Or rather, it started to. As far as I can tell, Rogers' DNA won't bond like it's meant to, and it overwhelms the other's and makes the entire fetus die."

probably use up the rest of our sample." He grimaced. "If we don't solve this dilemma soon, we're toast."

Riple grimaced as well and went back to pacing. After a moment he paused and straightened, stepping over to the computer against the wall. "I have an idea," he began, typing a set of commands into the machine. It whirred for a moment before it pulled up the computerized image of a DNA strand with several information boxes to the side. A picture appeared above it of Captain America, in all his shirtless massively musclebound glory, indicating to whom this DNA belonged. "And cloning won't work?"

The man shook his head. "Cloning methods aren't ready for humans and if we try it then we'll waste the rest of the sample.

"Rogers' DNA can't meld with an unenhanced one, correct?" Donovan nodded, and Ripke began typing again.

"I don't think his DNA is even truly human anymore," Donovan added helpfully.

Ripke just nodded as he pulled up a second genetic sequence next to the first, the added picture this time being of a ripped beefy brunette man, huge but not as big as Rogers, with dark brown hair and a distinctive metal arm. The Winter Soldier. "I just got a thought, tell me if it's crazy or not. The Winter Soldier has been enhanced as well, correct? They could never quite recreate the Super Soldier formula but they've made him stronger, faster, and pretty damn close to Captain America's level."

Ripke turned to face his partner as he held up a hand. "We've tried Rogers combined with a normal female, which didn't take. We've tried it with enhanced DNA, DNA with instability stabilizers, hell even male DNA, but none of it took. Now here's my idea," he explained, bringing up his other hand besides the first. "We get a sample from the Soldier. We extract the genetic material from an egg cell and replace it with the Soldier's." He used his hands to demonstrate how they would combine. "Then we try to combine _that_ with Rogers'. Since the Soldier has been enhanced and his genetic code changed at a base level, that might be what we need."

Donovan stood straight up from the chair he'd sat in, eyes going wide. "Oh!" he exclaimed, flapping his hands. "Oh, that's brilliant!" He gasped aloud as one hand went to his mouth. "Even better is what we get to tell the higher-ups! Not only did we succeed in creating another being with the Serum in them, the fetus will also have enhancements from the Soldier!" A broad grin appeared on his face and he nodded so fast Ripke thought his head would fall off. "You're a genius!"

"Don't I know it," the other man said with a smug grin. "Of course there is the matter of the surrogate. Considering what the fetus will be like, it will greatly tax her body. Could very well kill her, in fact it probably will."

Donovan shrugged and waved a hand dismissively. "She wouldn't be important in the long run, Ripke. In fact it'd be better if she died, for everyone's sake. It's not like she'd be anything more than a baby cooker."

Ripke nodded in agreement. "Very true, Donovan." He smirked as he picked up the clipboard and put it under his arm, making for the door. "You know what," he said as the duo headed to the door. "I think that this will work, and that we can expect truly _marvelous_ results."

* * *

Ripke slathered the clear ultrasound goop over the woman's slightly swollen stomach, ignoring the shudder she gave at the chill. She was unimportant, nameless, just a vaguely pretty blonde woman with easily-forgotten features. "Alright then," Ripke muttered as he picked up the ultrasound wand. "Let's have a look at the Soldier 2.0, shall we?"

His partner Donovan tuned the monitor, very aware of the watchful eyes of HYDRA command on them through the mirrored wall and multiple cameras. Both men would have denied the relief they felt when a picture appeared on the screen. "We got it!" Donovan exclaimed with a grin, getting his first look at his and Ripke's brainchild.

The ultrasound didn't give an extremely clear picture of the baby, but it was clear enough. It was perfectly formed, tiny hands and feet, and definitely male as they had intended. Even better than it being formed well, it was still alive at 20 weeks, longer than any of the others had survived.

"He's perfectly healthy," Donovan said with a grin, looking towards the double-sided mirror. Then an assistant came over holding a sheet of paper and he took it in a nod. "Even better news," he continued, "we took a sample of the fetus' blood, and we have found distinct genetic markers that are also present both in Captain Rogers' blood and the Winter Soldier's. It has most definitely inherited both of their enhancements." He paused for a moment to let that sink in. "It will be quite the force to be reckoned with."

* * *

A loud scream pierced the room,, the woman's hands clenching the grips of the hospital bed tightly. Her face was red and her lower lip was bleeding from her biting it so hard, but not a single occupant of the room looked at her or offered her a smile. They were all too focused on the lower part of her body; her massively swollen belly.

"It's too early," the doctor snapped at the man beside him, gesturing to the woman. "She's not due for another month!"

The other man scowled as he glared at the screaming woman as if it was her fault. "What's wrong with the baby?"

"Nothing's _wrong_ with it, per say, the issue is what he's doing to her. A better surrogate should have been chosen because this woman was not appropriately built for it. The child is developing at a faster rate and her body cannot handle the stress. Not to mention that he is quite large and she is very slight."

Donovan grimaced, running a hand over his short beard. "Can we remove the baby?"

"Yes, but it would require a C-Section and may endanger the woman."

"Do it." She gave him a panicked look but he ignored her. "The only one who matters is the baby. If he is harmed at all I will make sure you not only lose your job, but your life." He sent one last glare at the doctor as he turned and stormed out of the room to go report what was going on. As the door was closing the woman let out one last scream, which was cut off as the door sealed.

* * *

The Winter Soldier stood in the corner of the room, his dark, looming figure intimidating anyone nearby and prompting them to stay away. His bare metal arm and the large rifle held by it certainly didn't hurt. No one saw his face, his shaggy brown hair and face mask shielding his identity even if his glasses were removed. His striking blue eyes were even more noticeable when surrounded by dark makeup.

However, the Soldier himself was unconcerned by the effect he had; should he have understood it, he might have been proud of himself. But as it was, he was less focused on himself and more focused on the being in the center of the room. His new assignment.

A man in a crisp black suit stepped up to the Soldier, the man's eyes covered by thick sunglasses and his brown hair impeccably brushed. "Do you understand your mission?" he asked.

The Soldier nodded, turning to look at the man. "Guard," he spoke through his mask. "Protect."

"With your very life. Should anything happen to that baby on your watch, you will face _severe_ punishment."

The Soldier nodded and the man walked out of the room, the doctors following and leaving him alone in the large room. He stepped up to the containment center in the middle of the room, watching its occupant with a determined glare.

The tiny humanoid, for that was what its occupant was, didn't seem to be unnerved by his gaze like most, staring back with cloudy blue eyes. The tiny male made a gurgling sound as it flailed around a bit on the bed. Thin blonde hair lightly covered its scalp, and stood in all directions from its owner's constant movements.

The Soldier frowned and cocked his head to the side, not understanding its reaction. Every other being he had come into contact with had been afraid of him, except for those he took orders from. But, for some reason, this one only watched him curiously and made bizarre sounds in no language the Soldier had ever heard.

He leaned forward, eyes narrowing, when it began to make a strange sound with its lips and a small bubble appeared on them. Then he jerked back with a start, hand grabbing his gun, when the bubble popped and the _thing_ squealed. He scowled darkly, glaring at the tiny person even harder.

The Soldier stepped back from the bed with bars, still keeping an eye on the little human but also making sure to keep out of its view. This seemed to work well, and he stood there for several minutes, until another issue came up.

It began to cry. First soft whimpers, but very quickly it escalated to full-blown crying. The loud cries echoes around the room, but no one came to check on or silence it. They went on loud and strong for a while before finally quieting as the little one fell asleep.

The sound of the cries had struck something inside the Soldier. He didn't know how to explain it. It was like a vague memory, an emotion he couldn't describe that made his heart ache. Merely thinking about it made his head hurt, as it did whenever he thought too much.

So he simply tucked it into the back of his mind, and did what he did best: stand still and watch for dangers.

* * *

The Winter Soldier leaned back against the wall, arms crossed and eyes closed. Many would have assumed that he was asleep, which would have been their mistake. He was resting, yes, but not truly asleep. His ears were listening for a single out-of-place sound, and he could spring to his feet at a moment's notice to attack a threat.

The room he was in was completely dark, his figure blending into the shadow. In the center of the room was a baby's crib, a rack of baby supplies next to it. During the daytime it gave the room a very depressing feel, with the room's soft plastic grey walls and pulsing white lights. The carpet was light brown.

In the darkness of the room, it was impossible for anyone to have seen the small creature making its way across the floor, its eight legs scrabbling over the thick weave. It soon reached one of the four white legs of the crib and crawled up it, mindlessly seeking warmth. It made its way over the wooden crib, weaving light webs between the bars, before finding its way down to the center and the warm figure sleeping in it. It was not expecting the figure to roll over, a chubby arm landing next to it, and it lashed out at the offender.

The Soldier's eyes snapped open at a high-pitched cry and he lunged to his feet in a split-second, body tensing for a fight. He scanned the room and frowned when he saw no visible attacker. However, when the child continued to cry, he hurried to the crib and immediately realized why the boy was crying.

The baby was flailing around, tears streaming down his face, and a large brown spider was hurrying up the bars away from the boy. The Soldier, seeing the arachnid as a threat, reacted on instinct. He reached into the crib, put his hands under the infant's back and head, and lifted him up, holding the little one against his chest. As soon as he had secured the infant with one hand he used his other arm to pull out a handgun, blowing the spider apart instantly. The sound of the gunshot echoed around the small chamber for a moment before there was silence.

The Soldier returned the gun to his belt and moved to return the child to the crib, but froze when he realized. The baby's cries had quieted to soft sniffles, but that wasn't what was so shocking. It was the fact that he had put his head down on the Soldier's shoulder. When the man moved to replace the infant the boy began to cry again until he was returned to his place against the Soldier's chest.

The Soldier, for once, had no idea what he was supposed to do in this circumstance. None of the other visitors to the child had done more than replace its clothing or the cloth wrapped around its nether regions, and not one had held it like this. But the boy seemed to like it a great deal, and the crying had stopped.

So the Soldier fell back onto one of his old protocols; when guarding, make sure to never antagonize. And, seeing as how the little one would get upset when moved, it meant that he would have to hold him until he could stop.

Thirty minutes later the child was asleep and the Soldier gently lay him back down onto his bed. He felt a light flutter in his chest at the sight of the sleeping infant and cocked his head to the side, trying to place the feeling. But it was gone a moment later and, with a strange reluctance, he returned to his place guarding the room.

* * *

The Soldier would forever deny the pity he felt when the infant boy, now named Grant, would have visitors. The little one would raise his arms up, a hopeful expression etched in his little features, only to be hurt when they ignored him to go about whatever business they had. Sometimes he would cry, sometimes he would just sit there despondently.

However, the moment the people were gone, the Soldier would go to the crib. Grant's sad expression would morph into a happy toothless grin when he would be lifted and placed against the man's strong chest, held firm by the metal arm. The Soldier would carry him to the part of the room opposite the door and set the boy down on the thick carpet. Grant had no toys, but seemed to be entertained enough by the Soldier.

Today, for example, he had opted to be held, not put down. He had his little hands in Bucky's hair, tugging the greasy strands with fascination. What little hair of his own he'd had before had fallen out, leaving him bald. He showed his interest in the man's hair by attempting to eat it. But the Soldier's hair had not been recently washed, and Grant screwed up his face in disgust, spitting it out and gazing up at the man, looking like he was about to cry.

"Not to your liking, Champ?" the Soldier said, smirking. Then he stilled, eyes widening, as he realized what he had said.

Suddenly an image flashed behind his eyes. A man, small, sickly, short blonde hair and dark blue eyes, a disgusted expression on his face. The features mirrored Grant's, overlaying the boy's as a voice, a long-buried memory, flashed in the Soldier's mind.

"_Not to your liking, Champ?_

"_Bucky! That's disgusting!"_

_He heard a deep chuckle and realized that it came from him. "Oh come on Stevie," he replied with a grin. "It's not __**that**_ _bad!"_

_The blonde didn't respond, too busy spitting out whatever had been in his mouth. He turned to look at the Soldier, glaring. "Tofu. Is. Vile!" he spat, coughing heavily._

The Soldier blinked, his focus returning to the present. Little hands were patting his face, and he looked down. Grant's brow was scrunched up in concentration as he ran his hands over the contours of the Soldier's face. The low dark brows, the curved lips, heavily stubbled square jaw and rough cleft chin. The mask he wore was off to the side, him having taken it off earlier.

He let Grant examine him in curiosity as he tried to hold onto details of the rapidly-fading… dream? Whatever it was. However, the more he attempted to remember, the quicker it slipped away. Within a few seconds all he could remember was the face of the man, and a vague impression of a name beginning with B.

* * *

A week later Grant's lifestyle underwent a slight change. No longer was he left alone in an empty room with only a bodyguard for days on end; no, now he had a TV and an assortment of toys. It was apparently a sort of prize, for the boy being able to inch himself around a bit.

It had made the Soldier's job a bit more interesting. He was, as bizarre a concept as it was for him, _bored_. Grant was entertaining, yes, but at the same time he was just a baby. Occasionally the Soldier would be called to undertake a mission, but when not he was guarding the child.

For instance, he had just returned from assassinating a Senator, so that HYDRA could get one of their own, a man named Stern, into office. The Soldier had no opinions about it either way; the one and only thing he cared about was Grant.

The little boy was currently sitting in front of the TV, which was displaying mindless children's shows, and his attention was focused on the pile of blocks in front of him. He stacked them in no particular order, at least not as far as the Soldier could tell, before knocking them over with a shriek. He looked to the Soldier for recognition, which was given in a soft smile and nod.

The Soldier couldn't remember ever caring about someone like he cared about Grant. Unlike the people he remembered, Grant was innocent, sweet, and loving. He was genuinely happy to see the Soldier, and gave affection unconditionally. He was fragile and needed protection, which the Soldier could honestly say he enjoyed giving.

"Good one little guy," the Soldier murmured, his voice soft and dry from little use. The only ones he ever spoke to were Grant and his superiors. Both of which were only sparingly.

HYDRA should have paid better attention to their precious experiment and its guard. If so they would have seen the killer of dozens playing with a baby, stopping tears with his mere presence, and smiling—_smiling_—at the child destined to one day become more of a monster than he himself was. If they had known what a mistake they had made, they would have sought to correct it. Their mistake became a problem far greater than they could have imagined.

* * *

Donovan narrowed his eyes, glaring. The bright blue ones opposite him just blinked curiously, not understanding. The HYDRA scientist scowled and turned to his partner. "This is it? Really?"

His partner Ripke just shrugged and nodded towards the baby Donovan had been attempting to have a staring contest with. "It's him, all right. What, did you think the lady was going to pop out a grown man all set and ready to kill?"

"No, but…" Donovan scowled at the chubby baby as Grant gnawed on his little fist and stared up at them with the bright eyes he had inherited from the Soldier. "I didn't expect him to be so… useless."

Ripke rolled his eyes as he grabbed the kid's arm in a tight grip and, ignoring the way Grant struggled and cried out, stuck a needle into the arm and drew blood. The moment he let the boy go Grant pulled his arm into himself and bawled. "He's useless because he is too young to do anything," replied Ripke, ignoring the sobbing. "However, when he's older he will be a force to be reckoned with. The Super Soldier Serum coursing through his veins, along with our genetic modifications to the Soldier, will make him the most physically powerful human in existence."

"Muscles aren't everything," muttered Donovan as he recorded Grant's weight.

Both scientists were so invested in their work that they did not notice the person eavesdropping. Of course, it was unlikely they would have, considering the intruder was an expert at being unseen.

"It will get better once he's a year old and we can start running tests on him," Ripke added. "I've already whipped up that testosterone supplement. It'll make him more aggressive and add some benefits to his thought process and physical abilities."

Donovan snorted and shook his head. "All this focus on his physical prowess, what about his mind? Do we want a stupid assassin or a smart one?"

"Smart preferably, but not _too_ smart. He'll be raised to be a perfect tool for HYDRA without needing mind alteration like the Soldier. Once he turns three we can start training him." Ripke placed the tools into the bag he'd brought with him and zipped it up. "Is that it?"

His partner nodded as he removed the stethoscope from around his neck. "Yep. The kid's fine and healthy, no issues."

"Good." Ripke picked up his bag and headed for the door, Donovan following.

Barely a minute after they'd left the shadowy figure entered the room. The Soldier strode right to the table where Grant sat, sniffling away tears. The moment the baby saw him his blue eyes lit up and he raised chubby arms towards the assassin. The Soldier acquiesced, picking up the boy. However, he still sent a dark glare at the door the two men had headed out of, silently threatening anyone who dared harm the child.

* * *

The Winter Soldier stared at his reflection in the mirror, water dripping down his face. The black makeup had been cleaned off and his hair washed, and it was an incredible difference. He looked like a person. Not a weapon, not a tool, a normal human being. Sickly pale skin, crystal-clear blue eyes, wet brown hair that framed his face, and dark stubble that stood out starkly. The face in the mirror was not that of the Winter Soldier. It was the face of another man, someone whose name was hovering just at the edge of his mind, barely out of reach.

The Soldier lay his forehead against the mirror as a pounding migraine beat inside his head like drums, swelling and making him dizzy. But he did not succumb, splashing cold water on his face as he fought to push back the hurt. It was a tough battle but after a few minutes he could breath a sigh of relief.

Grant was his son, he knew it. It had taken many months for him to realize, for the conditioning to wane enough for him to think clearly. He didn't know how or why, but he had a son, one who HYDRA wanted to use.

His metal fist came up and smashed the mirror, sending glass shards tumbling down. The Soldier stared at his arm, the piece of technology that was given to him by HYDRA. The Soviet star was painted on the corner and he wanted nothing more than to tear the entire artifact off himself and throw it into the deepest sea. but he also knew he could not, for his own sake and for his son's. The boy needed him, now more than ever since he was approaching his first birthday, when Ripke and Donovan would begin their tests and experiments on him.

He wanted to take Grant and run. He didn't know where or how, but somewhere HYDRA could not find them. He could start a new life, not that he really had an old one to lose. Grant could be happy and, most importantly, _safe_.

* * *

**A/N: Notice how many of my stories have Steve? I love Steve. He's my fav 'venger. Of course, I find Bucky the hottest, but that's just me.**

**1) Highly doubtful pairing, if so it will be Harry/Luna. Not up for debate since I have no love for any other HP female that works with his age, Hermione especially because I hate her-sorry for those who love her.**

**This one is a bit more outlined, like how old Harry is and what his personality type will be. I am not 100% sure if this will be Bucky/Steve, but I am leaning towards it. Though for you slash haters, it won't be heavy romance. I suck at it, unlike my friend AnarchicMuse, who is terrific in...well pretty much anything she writes.**

**Opinions and constructive criticism welcome!**

**Also, if anyone wants to do fanart, I would LOVE an image for this story.**


End file.
